Heart Soup
If I could open up my heart anew
And gather all that tumbled through the crack,
The blacks, the reds, the blues, the half-formed pride
Collecting as a cloud behind my back,
Take all that’s blown apart by heaven’s wind,
(That blusters through my life), I’d make a ball
Of dead and hopeless nightmares trapped inside
And push it down this slope on which I scrawl.
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